


Original Sin

by nostalgia



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Gen, Oldfic, book not telly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-01-05
Updated: 2005-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-25 08:21:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22133005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nostalgia/pseuds/nostalgia
Summary: That damn tree again.
Kudos: 2





	Original Sin

“I’ve had a thought,” slurred Crowley.

“Do tell,” said Aziraphale. He wasn’t especially interested in hearing whatever no doubt blasphemous notion had occurred to the demon this time. But it was only polite to ask. One of the down sides to being an angel, he mused, before hastily pushing aside that mildly dangerous idea.

“’S about the Tree of Knowl…Knowledge.”

“Oh, not that again. And do sober up, you’re causing a scene.”

Yellow eyes glared at the angel, “Actually, I think you'll find it’s the revolution that’s causing the scene. I’m just sitting here taking in the view.”

“Yes, yes, whatever you say.”

“Anyway, the Tree.”

“Hmm?” It really was a lovely day, bloodshed notwithstanding.

“If they had no sense of right and wrong until they ate the apple, how were they supposed to know it was wrong to eat it?”

Aziraphale blinked. “Well, He told them not to eat it.”

“Yes, but… they didn’t really know what ‘wrong’ was, did they?”

Aziraphale was certain that there was a perfectly reasonable answer to this one. But bugger if he could think what it was. So he said; “Oh.”

“Yes, and even if – for the sake of argument – we accept that He can’t do anything wrong by simple virtue of being the one to make the rules, that wasn’t very nice of him, was it?”

This was going rather badly, in the angel’s opinion. “Actually, it’s His Divinity that means he can’t do wrong.” He tried to sound curt, but just came across as camp.

“Nah…” Crowley shook his head and took another drink. “Listen, if you’re the one that makes the rules, you’re obviously going to make yourself nice, aren’t you? Propaganda and all that. And self-image. You know what He’s like with self-image.”

“I’m not listening to you.”

“Yes, you are. And I’m only making a philosophical point. I don’t expect you of all people to agree with me.”

“Well, why don’t you take your heresies to one of your demon friends?”

“Well for one thing, we don’t have ‘friends.’ And secondly, they don’t much go in for that kind of thing. It’s why I like you. No offence.”

“None taken, obviously.”

“Tha… right.”

“You’re welcome.” Aziraphale had never quite got the hang of looking smug, and in any case wasn’t really prepared to take ‘going native’ quite that far. One had to have certain standards, after all.

“So my point is, how can they have done something wrong if they had no concept of morality? For that matter, how can you really have Free Will if you’re not aware of the consequences of your actions?” Crowley, by contrast, was rather good at smug.

And it was a good point, if you thought about it and didn’t mind taking a minor Fall.

“Well… obviously… that’s ineffability. You can’t question ineffability.”

“So if everything’s so ineffable, and He does everything on purpose, you probably shouldn’t hold it against me that I’m a demon.”

“Pardon?”

“Well, He obviously meant for the rebellion to happen. And, well, you didn’t hear me say this, but the Morningstar never really seemed the type to rock the boat, did he?”

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” sniffed Aziraphale.

“No, you shouldn’t say things like that. I should.”

“If you’d paid any attention to that little fiasco with the apple, you’d know that asking questions like that is what got us where we are now.”

“Yes, but he wanted them to do it. Otherwise he’d have let them know right from wrong.” The demon paused. “Of course, then they’d have had no reason to eat the bloody thing in the first place.”

“Which just proves how absurd your entire line of reasoning actually is.”

“Bollocks,” said the demon.

”Well, quite.”

They lapsed into silence, as Crowley sulked and Aziraphale tried to think of a way to change the subject. Really, it wasn’t done to question Him. No good ever came of it. Except that, when you thought about it, He was the one making everyone question Him, so by extension it had to be a good thing. Which meant that it didn’t matter what anyone did, because…

Oh, dear.

“So,” said Aziraphale, “Where are you going for Christmas?”


End file.
